


First to know

by viridian-vav (fullfeature)



Series: I got my heart right here, I got my scars right here [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Gang AU, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Violence, Murderers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullfeature/pseuds/viridian-vav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray was not going to play docile feline--he was a jaguar in the shadows, and when their backs turned with their smug grins he would smite them with his canines and claws.<br/>---------<br/>Alternatively: </p><p>Ray is the next one to be taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First to know

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a bit different.

Never let it be said that Ray Navarez Junior was a quitter. The bite marks and scratches on the men in front of him were proof that he was no easy target. Their lips curled in triumph, but he was not beautiful forgetful shithead Gavin. Ray was not going to play docile feline--he was a jaguar in the shadows, and when their backs turned with their smug grins he would smite them with his canines and claws. 

For now, though, he was content to stick out his jaw, spit the wet from his mouth and sneer his bloody teeth at them. 

"Well you're certainly more feisty than the other little bitch," the one sitting in the middle laughed. He had a bleeding mouth from Ray's fingernails, and his salt and pepper hair was a rats nest. The other two goons smirked, their faces so typical mobster it made Ray want to laugh. 

They both had ugly, jarring scars covering their young faces, and their hair was slicked back with a fuck ton of grease. They look like extras from the Godfather, Ray thought to himself. And then one spoke: "alright kid, lets make this painless--where are you all stashin the artillery?" 

Ray rolled his eyes internally, "I'd tell you, but that would be fucking stupid." He expected a blow, but none came. 

"Danny, Vito, head back up. I'll crack this one." Rats Nest looked awfully confident, and Ray couldn't wait to knock him down a few pegs. 

"Wow Danny and Vito--" Ray was going to make a quip about it being planned, but it was cut short by the hindrance of wet cloth in his mouth. Don't fucking breath, he told himself, but it was futile. The boy had already inhaled the substance; it clung to his lungs and brain like a vapor of cotton candy--knocking him out in mere seconds. 

When Ray came to he was somewhere else. Instead of the wood cabin walls that had greeted him earlier there was now a darkened city scape he could see through glass pane widows. It was beautiful, but he couldn't truly appreciate it past the old mammoth of a computer staring him straight in the face. 

"I know she's old, but that one of the reasons I bought 'er. Not to hard to hack into," a voice called from behind him, and Rats Nest stepped into view swirling a tumbler of alcohol. "Not to hard to make sure your friends can't track us. Drink?" He offered, hand outstretched like he'd actually give Ray a sip. 

"I don't drink." 

"Your loss," the man shrugged. He booted up the old computer whirrs and beeps filling the silence. 

It powered on slowly, and Ray took that time to asses the situation. He was bound so tight just sitting there hurt, but he was still fully clothed, and he had no idea what to do. Geoff had lectured them for so long on proper form and diving from fire--even prepared them for this. But Geoff hadn't accounted for a burly old man with a gun on his hip and sausage-fingered fists the size of Ray's face. 

"Aha! Now Ray, put on a pretty face for your boyfriend--we wouldn't want him to come to the assumption I'm hurting you would we?" A webcam chat sort of thing was loaded on the screen, Ray able to see a blank stream as well their own--the whole frame just his form in the chair. 

Straighten your back and school your features, Ray thought, doing exactly that.

\----

Across the city an inconspicuous car crunches the gravel driveway of a log cabin. The first floor of the building is lit up, but he's not concerned about the noise. Let them hear. 

The cabin had been been hell to find, but Ryan knew it was well worth it. When Ray hadn't come home last night they were all in a state of disarray--Geoff gritting his teeth at the thought of his boys getting kidnapped so close together.

It screamed conspiracy. Ryan knew they weren't the most popular group of people--killing didn't make you the neighborhoods go-to-guy, after all. That wasn't supposed to happen, though; nobody was supposed to know. 

The guy who'd caught Gavin--they thought it'd been a one off. It wasn't like Gavin told them much about it, seeing whenever they brought it up he went eerily quiet. They tried not to press. However, this? This made it obvious that someone knew who they were. 

And Ryan would willingly give his own life to save his boys'. So this whatever-the-fuck gang or corp that thought they could hurt the crew? They were in for it. Without the lads around to police his bloodlust there was no telling what he'd do to them. 

With that thought in mind Ryan grit his teeth, pulling his pistol from his side. The place gave off an empty air, but Ryan knew better than to trust first impressions. It'd costed him before, when he hadn't had Geoff around to fall back on. 

Now though, he wasn't going to make any mistakes. The door broke from its hinges as Ryan threw it open--nobody in sight. Ryan quieted his breath and focused his hearing; distantly, he could hear the rustle of fabric and mutters of conversation. There were people upstairs. 

He threw around the few vases he found, making an angry clatter to buy time. He could probably take them--but they might know where Ray is right now. Making a snap decision Ryan took the steps two at a time. 

Jack's voice rings through his head: let them know your stature, goad them into fearing you before they've even seen you.  
Ryan, the voice intones, sometimes you need to think with your heart instead of your head.

There are only two rooms upstairs, a small door leading to what is probably a bathroom, and the other, just barely ajar door leading to a bedroom. Ryan yanks the door open, pistol ready when someone jumps at him. He thinks with his heart and shoots the man in the kneecap instead of the chest.

"Vito!" Another man shoots up from his hiding spot, only to suffer the same fate. Vito groans from his place on the floor as Ryan takes the lamp from the dresser. The other man reaches inside his coat, but Ryan quickly knocks him out. 

"You sick bastard, we don't have the damn kid!" He only rolls his eyes, hoping they'll be more cooperative later. He knocks Vito out as well. Chucking the bloodied lamp aside Ryan grabs two sitting chairs, strips the bed and gets to work.

It only takes them about ten minutes to come to, tied down securely by the bed sheets, all their weapons laid on the stripped mattress. They wake up to Ryan cleaning the underside of his fingernails, knife glinting in the rooms dim lighting. Both of the men try to shout around their gags but Ryan holds up the hand wielding his weapon.

"Here's how this is going to work: I'm going to ask you a question. You don't play along? You lie to me?--and I'll know. Trust me in that you will wish I would've killed you. Now, why are you targeting us?" 

He cuts the unnamed man's gag, but there is no sound. Ryan sighs. He may love a good thrill and kill every now and then, but torture was not his favorite pastime. 

"You get one more chance before I make you talk," Ryan warns. Still silent, the men look at each other and turn back to Ryan with impassive faces. Think with your heart, Ryan reminds himself. 

A muffled shout echoes across the room, and the other prisoner struggles in his binds. "What the fuck?! He didn't do nothin' man!" 

Ryan shrugs, "either you both talk or you both suffer." His hands are barely even slick, just a few dots, but his grip on the knife is still wet. "Ready to tell me why you're taking my boys?" 

The man hesitates, and Ryan twists his implement, a pop resounding around them. Still gagged, the man tries to shout, his movements rocking the chair. Ryan pulls the gag from his mouth, switching it to the others. 

"I'll talk! I'll talk--please stop, please..." Desperation is the only thing in his tone and Ryan wonders how long the man--boy? has been at this. He'd expected a much longer scenario. "We-we're in it for the money and supplies, but," he wets his lips, "there's something else--the bosses--I've heard their thinking about selling your younger ones in the ring. Seedy business people, drug lords--hell if I know, but people pay for sex slaves." 

Ryan fills with pure, white hot anger. "Is that all?" 

The man winces, "nah, we were gonna make you give up the other stuff, turn your boys in, and there's something else, but me and Danny aren't high up enough to know though--they've got it out for you man." 

"Oh," Ryan nods, "I know that much. Now, where is Ray?" 

"In the city--I don't know what apartment but it's the Bellagio--Augh!"

Ryan removes his knife quickly smiling apologetically, "Thank you for your cooperation." The gunshot is loud, but Vito's shouts are louder. 

"What the fuck man?! I talked! I talked--" 

"And I thanked you. Vito, you've seen my face. This is how it ends for you." Ryan levels his pistol, and silences Vito's hysteria with a bullet. 

He walks back to the car, stripping of his bloodied leather jacket. His shirt is splattered under it, and he changes it quickly before radioing Lindsay for clean-up. 

Ryan gets in the car. Think with your heart, he reminds himself. 

\----

In the thirty minutes the chat has been running their has been zero progress. Mostly it was mutual threats with lots of shouting. What else was to be expected from Geoff though? 

"Look here you fucker! You're not getting Ray, Gavin or Michael, and your not getting any of our shit. What I can give you is a fucking police pardon." 

"Pft," Rats Nest scoffed, "like I don't know that you'd kill me later? I've been watching you for a very long time--and with the few men I trust I will take you down." 

Ray rolled his eyes. This bullshit was annoying him, but at least he was making some progress in the getting free department. His hands had been numb for at least five minutes now, but that meant he could barely feel the plastic wire cutting into his skin. Ray grit his teeth as slick warm liquid ran through his fingers, but bit his lip against a smile when his hand was freed. School your face, Ray reminded himself. 

"--well fine, I'll just show you how this bitch will be treated in the ring." Ray's hair was yanked hard and one fat finger shoved into his mouth. Without hesitation Ray bit with all the force he could muster, eliciting a sickening crack that didn't quite make it to the webcam. "Agh! You--you sick fuck!" 

Ray spit the fingertip from his mouth, wanting to hurl. Rats Nest was hunched over hand with all the fingers curling over the hilt of a decorated blade. Geoff was screaming, but through the rush of adrenaline and nausea Ray couldn't make out the words. 

"Calls over." With that the power cord was pulled, ending the stream. Ray waited until the knife was aimed at him, and deflected the wrist of the man with his forearm. He grabbed the arm and rocked forward, his chair attached body sending them both crashing to the floor. 

The knife skittered out of his hand, and Ray instantly grappled for it. With it firmly in his grasp Ray did not hesitate in slitting his captors throat. The blood wet his face, and Ray took deep breaths to see past the spots in his vision. 

Straighten your back and school your face, Ray ordered himself. There was no time to consider the silver band on his dead assailants finger, and he wasn't going to stay here any more than he had too. 

As Ray cut his ankles free from their binds the door slammed open, heavy footfalls and the clink of gunmetal echoing through the high rise. He acted on instinct, but failed. His legs protested any sort of movement, their muscles practically jello. 

"Ray?! Oh fuck, Ray..." Ryan pulled the boy up, supporting the brunt of his weight. 

"Ry? How'd you find me?" Ray tried to hobble along, but his ankles stung from the deep ridged slice the plastic ties had left. 

Picking the younger boy up Ryan grunted, "I had a very informative source--and the security here is shit. I hacked the cameras and found footage of that fucker carrying you in through the back." 

"Oh, cool." Ray winced as he was jostled, Ryan's foot work still heavy as they descended down the stairs. "I bit his finger off, and I slit his throat," Ray stated.

Ryan's grip instantly tightened. "Ray--I'm sorry. I should've been here sooner I just--they hid you so well--" 

"Ryan! Fuck, fuck I'm not blaming you--I just," Ray blinked away hot tears. School your goddamn face, he told himself, but Ryan had already seen, hands gentle where they placed him into the car. 

"I killed two people today Ray, and I know it's not the same--but I'm up at night sometimes thinking about it and... And looking at the five of you I know that every time I've killed it was worth it... Them or us." 

"Them or us," Ray agreed, but bile still burned at the back of his throat, and his hands were still dripping with another man's blood.

The ride was silent until they reached Ryan's garage. "You wanna take the truck or the Mazda?" 

"Mazda," Ray decided. They cleaned up, Ray changing into fresh everything. The clothes were far too big, but they smelled like Ryan. It was a calming scent that made Ray drowsy.

The Mazda was stocked with pillows and blankets from their last beach trip, and Ray picked a pillow before getting in the passenger seat. 

"You can sleep babe, it's a good thirty minutes." The clock on the dashboard said 7:30, and Ray gawked. He'd been gone for almost a day. A cloud of gratitude rushed through him, and he grabbed Ryan's hand before settling down to sleep. 

He woke to Gavin's quiet squawking as he set Ray down. "Oh, bollocks, I wasn't supposed to wake you... Sorry Ray!" 

Their nightstand clock read 9:10. Ray blinked. "Did we just get in?" 

"Mhmm. We were worried sick you know," Gavin ran his hand through Ray's hair. "Ryan told us what happened. I'm so proud of you, everyone is. You're so brave, X-Ray." There was an undercurrent of sadness in Gavin's tone and Ray knew he was comparing them. 

"Shut up and get under here." Ray pulled back the covers to have Gavin stumble into his arms, cooing quietly. "You don't have to be brave for me to love you, Gavin." 

"Neither do you Ray." Gavin wet his lips, something Ray's eyes followed involuntarily. "I know how messed up you get when you have to kill people close up like that--" 

"I'm fine Gav. You gonna pick my brain or you gonna kiss me?" Ray was answered with the warm press of Gavin's dry lips on his own. The boy hadn't let anything further than this and some groping happen since the day after he was taken. Ray didn't know how to approach Gavin about it, none of them did. So they stayed quiet. 

In the dark Gavin's eyes shut themselves tightly as he pulled away. Over his skin he could feel ghostly fingertips--phantom men that scorched his skin. Gavin counted to ten and counted back down. He grabbed Ray by the back of his shirt, breathing lungfuls of Ray's distantly familiar smell. Under the stench of sweat and grime lay the barely vanilla smell Ray always carried. The uptake his breath had taken calmed. 

Ray did not comment. Straighten your spine and school your features, his brain supplied.

**Author's Note:**

> Ray was honestly so much fun to write in this, and yes it's official: this is a series with a plot. 
> 
> Although feel free to request whatever over at dammitb on tumblr! 
> 
> QUICK POLL: GAVINS BACKSTORY OR RAYS? 
> 
> Endless thank yous for all your kudos, and feedback is always, always lovely.


End file.
